Denson's Adventures

This story has taken me a long time to find the words. Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. I'd like to thank Threewives for his patience and help in editing my first story.

Chapter One

The Arizona sun had a way of flattening things. Colors, distance, and even time itself. It stretched along the asphalt as Sergeant First Class Denson Bradmore rolled East along Interstate 10, one hand draped over the wheel, the other loosely gripping a folded tourist map he already didn't trust.

He had picked it up at a roadside stand somewhere before Tucson. The ones where you can buy postcards, Navajo jewelry, and a Mexican Coke for everything in your wallet. The woman behind the counter had smiled like she knew something he didn't when he paid.

"Everything you need is on there," she'd said.

Now, an hour later, Denson was beginning to miss a topographical map. A green highway sign flashed too fast to read fully. Something about an exit.

"Damn it," he muttered, glancing down again at the map spread awkwardly across his lap.

It was one of those colorful, overly simplified things. Cartoon cacti. Bold red lines for highways. Helpful little icons for gas stations that may or may not exist anymore. According to the map, Fort Huachuca should've been a straightforward turnoff twenty minutes ago. According to reality? Nothing but desert, scrub brush, and occasional rusted-out fence post.

Denson exhaled slowly, forcing himself to ease off the accelerator. No sense in making a bad situation worse. He'd been in tighter spots than this. Most of his adult life this would be a typical Tuesday.

He checked his mirrors. Empty highway stretching behind him. Ahead, the road shimmered, bending in the distance. He glanced at the map again, frowning deeper this time.

Off the main highway he saw an exit for "Denson?" Did it really say that? It must be a sign from the ghost of "PVT Murphy." He misses that comic. It was one of the reasons he picked Fort Huachuca. The comic strip shows life at Huachuca and how calm it was compared to his other assignments. He took the off ramp and realized it was towards "Benson." He decided Fort Huachuca is south of the I-10, so south towards Benson worked for him.

As Denson pulled into town, he saw a gas station and a two-story building next to it. A hand-painted sign leaned crooked near the entrance of the building, the word "Diner" barely legible beneath years of dust and sun fade. A mile marker confirmed he was skirting the edges of Benson, Arizona.

"Good enough," Denson muttered, easing his truck into the gravel lot.

The place looked like it had been there longer than the road itself. A couple of bikes sat off to the side. One older pickup. No movement otherwise.

He stepped out, boots crunching on gravel, and stretched the stiffness out of his back before heading inside.

The door creaked as it opened, and the smell hit him first--grilled meat, stale beer, and something fried long past its prime.

Inside, a few scattered patrons occupied the bar, quiet and uninterested. A television hummed in the corner with no one watching. Ceiling fans turned slow, lazy circles overhead.

After a short pause, he took a booth near the back for some privacy. He pulled out his cell phone, and called his monster of a wife, Tracey. He hesitated though. They'd been fighting constantly about this new duty station. Already twice today she threatened to leave him and then begged him not to cheat on her. It was exhausting and confusing.

Denson wanted to lead troops, but Tracey had forced him to find a non-deployable unit to babysit "chairborne" soldiers. He was moving for Tracey and yet she spun this new adventure as Denson made her move. Tracey had started drinking habitually in the past couple of years, and she blamed him for everything, including the fact he was "abandoning her" to drive from Fort Bragg to Fort Huachuca, leaving her to fly to Arizona once he found a house. Bracing himself, he pushed the call button.

"Hello?" Tracey answered the phone after two attempts. Her words slurred from drinking.

"Hey, it's Denson, could you look up Highway 90 and Benson on Google?" he asked.

"You got lost? God damn it Denson, how are you a Ranger? If you miss your date, you'll be fucked!" Tracey said.

"Yes, dear, I know. I've got till tomorrow, but that's why I'm calling..."

"For fuck sakes Denson, you're 35-years-old! Figure it out yourself. I'm tired."

"Tracey, can you just open your computer and check?"

"No Denson, this is not fair. You didn't need to leave. You could have stayed here and found a job. You are trying to rip me away from my friends and you're an asshole. I'm sick of this!"

Tracey is off her rocker, Denson thought. He was taking this assignment because he would be home every night for her, just like she wanted. But Tracey wasn't listening.

The Hot/Crazy Scale had her in the Danger Zone. He knew it from the beginning but her looks and skills were hard to overlook. She was barely over 5' tall, brown hair and eyes, with a perfectly shaped bubble butt and a 32C front and center. She was a sight to see naked and was amazing when in the mood. She was adventurous with a tight pussy and even tighter asshole. She could make you cum whenever she desired. The things she had allowed him to do filled up his memory bank for a lifetime. If she would only talk to him when she was naked and servicing his desires, they would be fine. A Baby Making Mute.

"You are evil. I know what you are up to. You want a divorce and this is how you run away." Tracey was changing tactics but making no sense.

Denson knew she was desperate to hold onto him, but only if she could control him. Army wives could be this way. Get used to the Army Wife perks, but tire of the Army Soldier duties.

Tracey wouldn't stop complaining and was quickly becoming unhinged. Denson stopped her. "You are right. Fuck this stupid shit. Don't bother coming here. As of this moment I do want that divorce. When you are sober, we will discuss terms of surrender. Till then, Fuck off."

Denson dropped his head on the table and sighed. When his phone rang, he sent it to voicemail. He did not need to listen to her apologize and then blame him again in the span of three minutes.

While he was still vibrating in anger, Denson heard the sweetest voice. "Hi, I am Kari and I'll be your waitress "slash" bartender for the night. Do you want something to drink before you eat?"

Denson lifted his head and saw the most amazing vision, a miracle of beauty.

She did not look like she belonged in a place like this. She was taller than Denson by a noticeable margin. Sandy blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, catching the dim light. Her green eyes were sharp, observant, set in a soft, round angelic face with the perfect number of freckles.

Denson could not speak immediately. He was in awe, so he responded with the easiest answer. "Yes, can I have whatever is on tap and a burger?"

As she drew even closer, he saw her name tag. Kari. He could now see how her white collared shirt fit snugly over her pert breasts. The shirt taut just enough to make it clear she wasn't trying too hard but wasn't exactly unaware either. Kari's skirt sat mid-thigh, practical for the heat but still drawing its share of attention from the room.

Denson clocked all of it in a glance, then filed it away just as quickly.

"Coming right up," she said, while not moving.

He pulled the folded tourist map from his pocket and spread it across the table. Kari leaned in slightly, one hand resting on the edge as she glanced down at it. Her expression shifted almost immediately.

"Where'd you get this?" she asked.

"Roadside stand off the 10. Needed directions to Fort Huachuca."

She exhaled through her nose, amused. "Yeah... that explains it." Denson raised an eyebrow in question.

"Let's just say you're lucky you ended up here and not twenty miles deeper into nowhere."

She reached out and turned the map slightly then tapped a spot with her finger.

"You missed your turn way back. The fort's not hard to get to if you're on the right road."

Denson leaned forward, studying where she pointed. Her directions were quick and confident unlike the vague lines on the map.

"Alright" he said after a moment. "So where do I go from here?

Kari straightened, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Well, as it so happens you can take the 90 for a long time and you will run into it."

He nodded, "Appreciate you."

She studied him for a second longer this time. Not the map. Him.

"You look like hell," she added plainly.

That got a small laugh out of him.

"Long drive," Denson said in explanation.

She added, almost as an afterthought, "there's a few rooms upstairs. Nothing fancy, but clean enough. You crash tonight, head out early, you'll make it to base without rushing."

Denson leaned back in the booth, considering it. He could push through. He'd done worse on less sleep. But he didn't need to this time. He folded the map slowly, setting it aside.

"Yeah," he said. "That sounds like the smarter move."

Kari gave a small nod, satisfied.

"I'll put your order in," she said, turning away. "And I'll check if we've got a room open."

As she walked off, Denson let himself relax. For the first time since he'd taken that wrong exit, things felt back on track. Something about this place seemed like it had been waiting for him to show up.

Kari watched him from behind the counter longer than she meant to. It wasn't just that he stood out. It was the fact he was exhausted and obviously hurting from the phone call, but he still held himself as if he was above the pain.

He was shorter than most of the men who passed through, maybe 5'6, but there was nothing small about him. The way he moved, the way he sat, even the way he scanned a room without making it obvious... it all carried weight. He was obviously a soldier, but that did not do him justice.

His jeans were worn but clean. His plain blue t-shirt fit across a stocky, athletic frame that looked earned, not built for show. His hair was cut close and his face held that quiet, steady kind of confidence that didn't need to announce itself. But it was his eyes that caught her. Dark brown, almost black, steady, and focused. Kari found herself looking his way more than once.

She eventually brought him his burger and beer. Setting it gently down in front of him, a little more carefully than necessary.

"Anything else?" she asked.

Denson glanced up, that same calm expression meeting her again. "No, this is perfect. Thanks."

Soldiers came in different styles. Benson was far enough to avoid the base soldiers regularly, but close enough you'd sometimes see them driving through. This man was one of the polite ones.

"Alright," she said, nodding once before stepping away.

She never went too far from this man. She wanted to keep watching him without being obvious.

Finally, he finished and was ready to pay for the food and room upstairs. The credit card gave her a name. Denson Bradmore. She now knew the man who will haunt her bedtime ritual. She already could imagine her fingers soaked. She had not had a boyfriend for a couple months and even then, she was never satisfied. Her bedtime ritual had been her saving grace.

After paying, Denson went to his car for a change of clothes while Kari found the keys and realized Denson would be the only person in the lodging tonight. He would have the whole floor to himself. Kari in her aroused state, thought that she should check on Denson after the other diner employees had gone. For "customer service." It's the least she could do for a service member.

Two hours later, the hallway was quiet. The kind of quiet that settled deep into old wood and stayed there. The bar had closed downstairs, and Kari was the last employee in the building. It was just her and Denson.

Kari leaned against the wall outside Denson's room, holding a small tray of chips, packaged snacks, and two bottles of water. She kept telling herself it was just good service, but she knew better. Kari wanted to skim the dark edges of what was appropriate. Something about him had hooked her the second he walked in. Not loud. Not overwhelming. Just... steady. Like he was anchored in a way most people weren't. And she wanted to understand that. Wanted to see what he was like when he wasn't just passing through.

She knocked lightly. There was a pause. Then the sound of movement inside.

The door opened a few inches, and Denson appeared shirt still on, boots off, the fatigue in his face more obvious now that he wasn't holding it back.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice rougher than before.

Kari lifted the tray slightly. "Figured you might want something else. Snacks. Water."

He blinked once; he had not expected anyone to come looking for him. Then he gave a small, tired half-smile.

"Yeah... alright. Come on in."

She stepped inside, the room simple and worn, but clean enough. A single bed. A small table. A lamp cast a soft yellow glow. Denson moved aside, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't have to do this," he said.

"I know" Kari replied easily, setting the tray down. "Did it anyway." That earned a quiet huff of amusement from him.

She glanced at him for a moment, studying him more openly now. Up close, the

details stood out even more: the faint lines of fatigue, the way his shoulders carried tension even at rest, and the jagged scar on his right forearm.

"You're exhausted," she said.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Little bit...You always take care of lost strangers like this?"

Kari shrugged, a faint smile tugging her lips. "Only the ones that seem worth it."

There was a quiet beat between them. Not awkward. Just... there.

Denson let out a slow breath, the weight of the day finally catching up to him. "I was just gonna crash for a bit, but I had too much on my mind." And then spit out, "I told my wife I was leaving her before you came up to me at the table."

Kari was speechless. She could not think of something to say other than, "why?"

And more shockingly, he just blurted out everything about his soon to be ex-wife.

She felt sorry for him and decided to move to the bed. Not intentionally. But because she felt he needed comfort.

Denson took a good look at her in the moment. Sitting on his bed. She looked to be no older than 19. She had changed from what she had been wearing and was now in a halter top and black running shorts. The shorts showed off her round ass and lead to her toned legs which screamed to be touched. Her legs made you want to have them wrapped around your body. Her hair was a wavey mess, her freckled face was innocent, and her lips were full. All together a tapestry of beauty.

"Uhh..." he blurted out.

Denson realized he was staring at her. He had to tear his eyes from her body and uttered a few incoherent words. He almost did not care about life. He was tired of driving, tired of Tracey, and tired of being celibate.

Denson was taken aback by the young beauty. Everything about the moment screamed lustful intentions. A tightness formed in his jeans, making him very uncomfortable. Being liberated from his soul-sucking wife had broken him from a promise of monogamy.

Kari saw his bulge and decided in an instant she wanted to stay.

"I hope you don't mind," she said "I figured you might like someone to talk to." She smiled apologetically.

She sure smiles an awful lot. Denson thought. Though he didn't mind. Her smile like everything else about her, was intoxicating.

"No, it's fine." He spoke. He was eager for her company now that he was so close.

They talked while keeping a close distance. Denson told Kari about his life, military career, and more about his marriage. She nodded and said the appropriate things at his pauses but mostly let him talk. She was very sweet. Denson's arousal grew even more when Kari reached for his hand as he told her all about Tracey and her alcoholism.

"I'm so sorry," she said sympathetically, "you deserve to be treated better."

Her kindness made Denson feel somewhat guilty about ogling her, not that he was going to stop. But he eventually began to ask about her life.

"I go to Benson High, but I graduate next month. I got a job here to pay for college," she said, pulling out a gold necklace with a heart pendant. She leaned forward allowing Denson an excuse to thoroughly examine her beautiful breasts. He could just make out the lacy lining of her plain white bra, struggling to keep her mounds restrained. He could tell she was nervous by her fidgeting with the necklace. Everything she said was to convince him she was mature enough for him. But she did not need to. He considered in the moment that small town police probably didn't mind if a bartender was underage as long as they served them beer. But owners only cared their bartenders were responsible enough to handle business without a babysitter.

The attention Denson was giving Kari was making her just as excited as she was making him. As beautiful as Kari was, she'd only ever been with one boy who'd taken her virginity last year. And now she was in a room with a man twice her age and wanting nothing more than to be with him.

Kari felt bad for Denson. But she also wanted to be the naughty one for a change. No one would ever know. She leaned over and kissed him, missing his mouth. Kari doubled her efforts and kept trying till she found his lips. Her hand went to his thigh, supporting her weight as she leaned over to bring his mouth to hers.

Denson was frozen by surprise. Both from the kiss and by the proximity of her hand to his throbbing cock. Kari was persistent though, she kissed him again, and eventually her tongue invaded his mouth. Kari tasted of strawberries. She shuffled closer to get a better angle, never allowing their lips to part. She broke the kiss and swung one leg over his thighs, mounting him. Her breasts pressed firmly against his chest as her body pinned Denson to the bed, and they resumed their soul melding kiss.

Denson acted on pure instinct. His hands went to her hips trying not to do anything that would make her stop. She ran her hands searchingly along his sides and back. Then grabbing the end of his shirt as she pulled away to look at him. Her fingers explored his now exposed chest and flat stomach until they eventually made their way to the zipper on his pants. Fumbling around, she undid the button and unzipped his fly. She reached through the fold of his boxer shorts and found his raging hard cock. She pulled it out and began stroking it with her soft hands.

She broke the kiss. In her mind she worried if his cock will fit in her little used vagina. But just as quickly, she returned to stroking the entire length. She'd only intended to make out with him, maybe let him feel her up a bit, but Kari felt herself losing her control. Denson could only gasp, the pleasure she was bringing him was overwhelming. He hadn't enjoyed the touch of a woman since the staged intervention for his wife six months ago. She'd refused to admit that she had a problem and had refused to have sex with him ever since. But all he could think about now was holding off cumming until he knew where this was going.

He gained some courage, and allowed his hands to leave her waist, one went upward to her torso under her tight-fitting top. Her stomach was soft without being flabby. His other hand went snaking beneath her short running shorts, pressing inside her panties to touch her hidden flesh. He tried to reach her prized possession, but to do so would force her to give up her hand on his cock. Instead, he felt the softness of her upper thigh and ass.

After a few minutes of caressing one another, Kari's hands left his cock, and for a moment Denson thought that he'd found her last stop. But he was wrong, her hands went to the bottom of her shirt, which she pulled over her head and tossed on the chair next to the bed. She then arched her back, her chest jutting out towards him. She reached behind her back to undo her bra. Her breasts sprang free from their restraint, just as beautiful as Denson had imagined. She tossed her bra onto the chair as well. His hands trailed up her now bare stomach as she watched silently, making their way up until he had a handful of each breast. His hands kneaded the firm flesh and teased the pink nipples that stood proudly from each mound. Kari loved the feel of his hands on her body. Denson's skillful hands had Kari moaning pleasurably. Their lips met again, they kissed urgently. Kari's hands returned to Denson's cock, which still stood proudly between their torsos. She stroked his cock as he kneaded her breasts. Their moans were muffled by each other's mouths; Kari broke the kiss once again. Kari had lost all control by this point.